12. Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married [Kendal Register Office, Kendal]

Well, I’ve finally managed to get online. It’s taken a while but, hey, I’m six months old and I’ve only just worked out that a) I have hands and b) that they can do stuff. And I’ve been busy: keeping Mum and Dad up all night isn’t just a question of the odd cry between the hours of late and later. Oh no, it takes real dedication to keep two fully grown, reasonably intelligent adults awake. You have to be up early to catch me out. Or, rather, up all night.

I seem to have inherited my mother’s ability to digress. Right. The reason I’m writing is because I need to report a Very Strange Weekend. One where I was not – repeat not – centre of attention. I know, I know – it just doesn’t make sense. Anyway, there I am in yet another new place (quite nice as it turns out – old house, big kitchen, exposed beams and all that) and it’s the usual set-up: lots of people wanting to play with me. And then, all of a sudden, Mum and Dad make some sort of announcement, that I can only presume has nothing to do with me, and all hell breaks loose. I’m put to bed and I can hear them laughing and having a lovely time without me. If I hadn’t been so tired I would have kicked off big time.

Next day, things get worse. Mum trusses me up in a three-piece suit – I’m a baby, for nappy’s sake, not a bouncer – and then hands me over to one stranger after the next as she puts on some fancy outfit with flowers. I then have to share the back seat of the car with Aunty Cathy (I mean, she’s OK and everything but if she’s taking up the back seat where am I supposed to store my toys?). So off we go – but do we end up at Head Over Heels? Do we heck. We end up in some draughty old gaff where I’m parcelled off while Mum and Dad stand at the front of the room and start spouting all sorts of soppy nonsense (something about love, promises and becoming husband and wife). Of course, I express my annoyance – and then Sarah takes me outside! Without Mum and Dad! And, more importantly, without any toys! Is every adult an amateur, or is it just this lot? Sheesh. So by the time Sarah realises she’s made a Big Mistake and we go back in, Mum and Dad are all smiles, Eliza and Cathy are wiping away tears and everyone’s making like David Bailey with the cameras.

Things picked up when we went back to the house. There were lots of bubbles (I joined in by blowing spit bubbles), a cake was cut, speeches made, presents unwrapped and games played. Mum gave me lots of kisses and Dad carried me round on his shoulders. One can only assume this was their way if making it up to me. Whatever. I made sure they knew who was the boss at bedtime: I turned the dial to LOUD, set the alarm for EVERY HOUR and filled my nappy as much as infantly possible. Ah, happy days. And nights.